


it's an art

by foxinschlox



Series: MikoTotsu Week 2014 [8]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2836631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxinschlox/pseuds/foxinschlox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for MikoTotsu Week. 12/18 : Aura | Flames. [ Totsuka tries a new approach to his defensive technique. He just doesn't think he can do it alone. ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's an art

It's perfectly dark out. Warm and breezy too, so the front doors of the bar stay propped open to let the light and sounds from inside spill out and invite patrons in.  
If they want to try their luck passing the two guardian deities wielding fire on the steps out front.

“Ready?”

“Hit it.”  
Mikoto pushes the stolen pair of sunglasses he's got on up into his hair so the fringe sticks out all weird. 

The tiny flame blooms in Totsuka's palms. He holds it close to his chest and nurtures it to life. So far he's mastered the form of the bird, the form of the butterfly – elegant, winged things that deal 0 damage. If he's ever going to fight that's not going to cut it.  
He feels ready to try something more intense. In typical Totsuka fashion he keeps what he has in mind a secret for dramatic effect.  
With King watching and so close he's especially in touch with his aura. This time he'll do it.

First order of business...  
Mikoto leans to light the end of the cigarette in his mouth in Totsuka's hands. His vassal chews his bottom lip, watching the initial puffs of smoke rise.

Second order...  
Totsuka tries climbing into King's lap. This is the way he always learns, in private lessons, as close to the source of his power as possible.  
This time the request gets denied. 

“No touching, brat.”

A deep drag gets him through Totsuka's long, pitchy whine. Discouraged, the bud of flame in his palms flickers dim.

“ 's cheating.”

“I'll do it by myself then. Right. Over. Here,” Totsuka scoots over to the other side of the steps. He concentrates and concentrates on what he's trying to do and not on stingy King and his smoking and his stolen glasses and the way he watches close out of the corner of his eye.

“See, now it's even bigger”

The Red King squints at it on purpose, firing up Totsuka's headstrong refusal to be a disappointment. He shapes his hands into a firmer ball and allows just enough oxygen inside to let the fire live. He's just got to teach it who's boss; channeling more energy brightens the glow seeping from between clasped palms. Totsuka puts on a tough face.

But each time he tries moulding the shape it fans out with wings as if attempting to take flight.  
Totsuka is cursed with a carefree spirit, feeding his aura with the need to be the same. He has to steady this one. It has to be bigger. Try, try, try again. It takes so much of his energy. People pass by without a second glance.

Every attempt falls flat and finally presses Totsuka to admit defeat with a heavy sigh.

“So maybe I can't do it on my own, King. I need you.”  
His almost-exhausted little plea is too pitiful to handle.

“Tch. Then just imagine it.”

“Imagine what?”

Mikoto's shoulders tense and he's hesitant to growl,  
“That 'm touching you.”

“Oh...”  
No matter how off-handed King suggested, it heats Totsuka up, inside-out til his face is tinted red. It's worth a shot.  
He closes his eyes and his lips part just barely, wetted by the tip of his tongue (the way he usually asks to be kissed). Mikoto raises a brow at him; now this looks ridiculous.  
...  
but it works.  
The flame between opened palms glows fiercer, larger with some imagination – maybe King's rough hands making friction up and down the length of his body, playing at bare skin, or squeezing down his hips for more passionate fuel. It grows between the wider spread of his palms until he's working with a mass of wild unshaplely aura. A happy shiver runs up Totsuka's spine, causing excess sparks to drip down to the concrete steps.

Stroking over the living flame with one hand, eyes still closed, he's able to paint it into form at last. A deep breath focuses all his energy; his mind will do the real work here. Mikoto becomes fixated on his progress now that Totsuka can't get distracted watching his reaction.  
The face comes first – the rounded jaw, the squared off snout, ears alert and eyes glowing brightest of all. They are bright flares of light on a visage of gold and red.

An image of a king of beasts.

Totsuka blows gently across the lion's face to create a stunning, windswept mane. It comes to life at the touch of his breath and shakes bright embers out of its crown and cloak of fiery hair. The mouth pants open to show off bright fangs. The shoulders form below; they're built up with tension before relaxing like King's do.  
Totsuka pets his creation fondly, fingers getting lost in the bright tendrils of flame that make up the lion's mane. It presses its head into his hand with ears laid down, content. Totsuka's breath is a bit labored from effort.

Mikoto's cigarette has long since fallen from his lips by the time the lion bares its teeth all the way to yawn before it disappears. Right along with Totsuka's strength to keep it going.

His vassal's eyes flutter open, having only yet felt and visualized what he's done.  
Totsuka is much more subdued this time in asking,  
“Did you see?”

A round of applause and overdone yelling sounds from behind them where their clan has been gathered, watching. Somehow they'd been able to keep it down long enough not to be noticed. Even the bartender's left his stronghold to be squished up against the doorframe clapping with everyone else – his glasses are missing though. 

“ 's beautiful,” Mikoto's slow, deep voice is meant just for Totsuka to hear – he ruffles his vassal's hair all rough. “Make it ten times bigger and we got something going.”

We.  
That's all it takes to get him eager to try again.

“I'll definitely need you for that,” Totsuka replies just as quietly over his shoulder, watching King get up. It might be just his imagination, but he looks so proud when he faces everyone.  
At least until getting scolded for stealing.

'It's bright out,' is the Red King's excuse before he's got to hand them over. At least it makes his vassal laugh as they share another subtle glance.

And even with all the compliments Totsuka gets on his new trick,  
it's the way King's faint smile sticks around the rest of the night that does it for him. This is an art form after all.


End file.
